


My Eyes Were Dark ‘Til You Woke Me, and Told Me That Opening Was Just The Start

by jackpip



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious Phillip Carlyle, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Phillip Carlyle, M/M, Phillip Carlyle Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 10:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackpip/pseuds/jackpip
Summary: Phillip can’t help but wonder how there could be such a thing as Heaven when the godliest being in all planes of existence is currently encircling his arms around his shoulders, thawing the seas of his world.This—the steady rise and fall of his chest, the feeling of his fingers pressing ever so slightly into Phillip’s back—is almost enough to allow Phillip to forget what day it is.Almost.





	My Eyes Were Dark ‘Til You Woke Me, and Told Me That Opening Was Just The Start

The rustling of bedsheets awakens Phillip, pulling him from light sleep with even lighter movements. Despite the noise, it’s the absence of familiar warmth, the way the cotton seas surrounding him have iced over, that stirs him enough to prop his head up against the wall.

Squinting, he opens his eyes momentarily to see Barnum, starting to get out of bed, and slings an arm around his waist. Phillip only has to tug three times, grunting as consciousness begins to fill his mind, before the other man lies back down with hyperbolised reluctance and pulls him onto his chest.

“Good morning, Flip,” he murmurs, voice rough and low and comforting and  _ perfect,  _ and Phillip smiles, teeth bared into his partner’s shoulder. A gentle hand runs through Phillip’s hair as he burrows his face further into the crook of Phineas’ neck, eyelids beginning to droop again.

Phillip can’t help but wonder how there could be such a thing as Heaven when the godliest being in all planes of existence is currently encircling his arms around his shoulders, thawing the seas of his world.

This—the steady rise and fall of his chest, the feeling of his fingers pressing ever so slightly into Phillip’s back—is almost enough to allow Phillip to forget what day it is.

_ Almost. _

His breath hitches as the entire universe frosts over in a heartbeat. The words in his throat freeze and expand, icy as they threaten to shred his vocal chords; he doesn’t think he could make a sound if he tried.

“It’s 10 in the morning, Phil—you’re going to have to get up  _ eventually, _ ” Barnum implores, faintly attempting to fully rouse him. They both know it won’t work; it never does.

This time, though, Phineas won’t rush him through choice. Phillip clings to him, fear softly seeping through his skin and into Barnum’s as reality—the realisation that he’s leaving,  _ going again _ —sinks in.

He said he wouldn’t.

_ He promised he’d never leave Phillip again. _

Phillip still doesn’t understand why the man insists on going halfway across the country to collect equipment for the Wheelers. The siblings themselves went as far as telling them yesterday that it’s not even a necessary trip—they could quite easily have it shipped to the nearby port, collect it at the weekend.

That way, Phineas wouldn’t be breaking his promise—because he  _ promised, Goddamnit, and Phillip trusted him _ —and he wouldn’t be  _ leaving _ and Phillip wouldn’t be left alone, again, struggling to sleep.

Struggling to  _ breathe. _

_ Alone. _

_ Alone forever. _

_ Alone forever, without his Phin- _

“I’m sorry, Phillip,” Barnum pulls him from his thoughts, moving again to get out of bed, “but I really do have to get up now.” He puts a record on and, any other time, Phillip would beg him to turn it off, claim it’s too early for such  _ loud frivolity. _

Now, though, Phillip can’t talk, paralysed by the paroxysm of pure  _ grief _ he feels as the other man leaves the room.  _ Never to be seen again, _ his mind supplies, and Phillip can’t quite quash the thought as he curls up under the sheets, desperately searching for warmth in the arctic wasteland claiming their bed.

Barnum is only gone for a few minutes, but Phillip swears he begins to feel the frostbite claiming his fingers as he hears a harsh scraping sound outside the door. A second later, Phineas strides back in, a note in hand and a scarf wound around his neck.

He sits on the bed, letting his fingers skim Phillip’s as he hands the letter over silently. Phillip takes it and tucks himself into the corner of the bed, moving away from Barnum as he unfolds the paper.

_ I’m going, but you don’t have to worry. You won’t miss me this time, because the thing is: I’m going on an adventure. _

“And guess what, darling?” Phineas takes Phillip’s hand.

Phillip doesn’t want to look him in the eye, see regret, shining and piercing his chest; nevertheless, he finds himself powerless to do otherwise as Phineas threads gentle fingers through his hair and rubs a thumb on his forehead, warm and safe and firm and  _ there. _

“You’re coming with me.” 

Phillip looks confused and starts to back away slightly. Barnum quickly continues, trying to assuage with his tone the anxiety he can feel emanating from his partner.

“I mean we’re not going to get equipment. Well, we are, but it’s being shipped, like Anne said the other day.  _ We’re _ going away for a week, Phil. Just us. No work, no responsibilities, nothing. Lettie’s going to take care of things for us.” He tentatively cups Phillip’s face and presses a single kiss to his nose.

“Just me and you, darling. Is that ok?” Phineas smiles as he feels Phillip relax, nodding as fear leaves his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers, brushing their lips together. Phillip’s heart melts, and the flow of words finally escapes him. 

“I love you too,” he yawns, failing to stifle the breath, “but what time are we leaving?”

Barnum chuckles, pretending to check his pocket watch.

“Considering our suitcase is packed and ready, just outside the door, not for another—” he tucks it back into his pocket, “—three hours.”

With that, Phineas all but throws himself back onto the bed, warmth flowing through him as he pulls Phillip, yawning again, down next to him. He kisses his forehead, holding him close.

“Go back to sleep, my Phillip. I’m not going anywhere.”

An unintentional sigh—far too high-pitched and similar to a squeak for his liking—escaping from the corner of his mouth, Phillip allows the wave of his senses, all screaming  _ Phineas, _ to finally wash him back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little shorter than usual, but I’m pretty happy with how it came out!
> 
> Also, fandoming_random, I hope you enjoy this and it helps you feel a little better! <33


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